Between Basketball and Love
by Kaiser Washington
Summary: Rukawa makes embarrassing mistakes during practice, and is forced to confront his feelings for Mitsui. RuMit. One-shot. Re-uploaded. Cheesy, plotless, etc. Possibly humor.


Summary: Rukawa makes embarrassing mistakes during practice, and is forced to confront his feelings for Mitsui. RuMit. One-shot. Re-uploaded. Cheesy, plotless, etc. Possibly humor.

A/N: Originally published on August 31, 2008. I CRINGED so hard when I reread this that I'm fairly certain I'm not even alive anymore. I'm going to say this is possibly also humor, because that is the only way I can deal with having written something like this.

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 **Between Basketball and Love**

It isn't as if my life revolves around basketball, and everything else means nothing to me. It's just that my love of basketball overshadows my love of other things. When it rains and I'm stuck at home, it's not as if I wish to die every second, and brood over how much fun others are probably having. I have my share of fun, too, you know.

But at the same time I would pick basketball over practically anything else.

"Pass the ball, Rukawa!" yelled Sakuragi in that boorish manner of his that I pretend to be unaffected by. His voice to me sounds like something between the lead singer of Nickelback with a sore throat and a water-clogged trombone.

"Idiot," I mutter, not meeting his gaze, and so making him fume. It gave me a strange feeling of complacency to see him get irritated by my behavior. And I, of course, didn't actually do anything, so that gives that redhead dimwit an air of stupidity.

"I said pass the ball, Rukawa!" yelled Sakuragi, and I was half expecting him to plant his foot on my behind. Fortunately, nothing of that sort happened, because a certain gorilla intervened.

I obliviously dribbled my way to the basket, and leaped up with my natural grace, and dunked the ball.

"AAAH! Rukawa-kun!"

How I abhorred those pests, those so-called "Rukawa fan-girls". But there was a plus side to them, too, and that was the way Sakuragi always seemed to be distracted by their noisy cheering and offended by their invectives. Now, I'm not saying I'm completely unaffected by their annoying cheering—I am. But I've had enough experiencing dealing with such girls in junior high to have learnt to ignore them.

"Rukawa, come over here," ordered Captain Akagi, and I scowled inwardly. What now? Don't tell me he was going to ask me to show that amateur Sakuragi _another_ of my basketball moves. He takes so long to learn that I'm getting bored with showing off my abilities, and that's saying something, because I normally enjoy showing off my incredible talents.

"Could you show Sakuragi here how to make a free throw?" said Gori, and there was a hint of firmness in his voice that seemed to scream out, "'No' is not an answer!"

I nodded mechanically, casting the redhead what was intended to be a piercing glare, but I guess Gori's presence made it seem like a passionate glance.

"Great," said Gori, nodding. He turned to Sakuragi. "And you'd better watch him closely."

I could see the look of annoyance in Sakuragi's face. He didn't seem the happiest person. Nobody is when they're asked to watch and learn from the person they hate most. I wouldn't have liked for him to give me a lesson in stupidity either.

I passed my eyes over the rest of the team, and tried mentally to convey to them that I wasn't doing this because I cared in the slightest about Sakuragi improving his game, before setting off at a jog toward the basket. I imagined Sakuragi's unwilling eyes following my graceful movements as I leaped up into the air to dunk the ball.

I heard the gasps of my teammates, and felt contented that my slam dunk had inspired awe in my spectators. But Captain Akagi didn't seem the happiest man when I returned to where Sakuragi and he were standing.

"Rukawa," he said through clenched teeth, "you were supposed to do a _free throw_."

Sakuragi was snickering diabolically behind Gori.

I opened my mouth, and stared stupidly at the Captain, unable to think of anything to say. Moreover, I was annoyed that it wasn't my slam dunk that had caused everyone to gasp.

Trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, I set off at a pace that was a little faster than was required to be graceful. Embarrassment had heated my blood up to twice the temperature of a healthy person's, and my joints seemed shaken up.

I stood in front of the free throw line, and prepared to shoot. _This isn't right_ , I thought. And sure enough, when I released the ball, it bounced off the rim of the hoop with a mocking echo, further amplified by the fact that my spectators seemed to have been rendered speechless. At this moment even if Sakuragi had burst out laughing, and begun rolling on the floor I would have felt more comfortable. This strange silence was filled with… disbelief. I could almost hear everyone's thoughts: _Rukawa? I don't believe it. He_ actually _missed a shot?_

Red-faced, I went to pick up my towel and head for the locker-room without a second glance behind.

I set the towel down next to the sink, turned on the faucet, and let the cool water flow over my hands. I splashed some water on my face, and felt my skin cool down with, if I let my imagination run wild, a hissing sound and steam.

I think I may have been splashing water on my face for far too long, because I heard an impatient "ahem" behind me, and nearly jumped. I whirled around, water dripping from my face onto the otherwise immaculate floor, to see Hisashi Mitsui leaning against the doorframe with a sly smile on his face.

"What was that all about, Rukawa?" he asked, and I had the feeling he wasn't the kind of person from whom one could keep things very easily.

"What was what all about?" I countered, trying to sound natural.

"You missed a shot!" he said disbelievingly, but in a cruelly amused manner at the same time.

"Yeah, rub it in," I said as I began wiping the water off my face. I kept the towel over my face long after I had finished drying off. I found it easier to face Mitsui this way.

"But how could you, of all people, make such a sloppy shot?"

I could sense him getting closer. And I wisely chose not to answer his question.

"And before that," Mitsui went on, now a lot closer, "why did you do a slam dunk when you were specifically instructed to demonstrate a free throw?"

I was afraid he would get to that. How could I, Kaede Rukawa, tell him that I got carried away trying to show off? It's just not… me.

"That was just not… you."

I could feel his breath on my face now, and that was _through_ the towel.

"Put the towel down, Rukawa. I just want to talk. I'm here to help if something's bothering you."

"Nothing's bothering me," I snapped. "I'm just wiping my friggin' face. Don't tell me you've never wiped your face before."

I could hear him chuckle, and I felt like sticking my foot up vertically to make contact with a certain spot between his legs.

"Of course I wipe my face, but I'm usually done in under a minute!"

I realized my mistake. I must have had the towel over my face for at least five minutes now.

What is wrong with me? First I do a slam dunk when I'm asked to do a free throw, then I actually _miss_ a free throw, and now, I'm wiping my face as if it were the most exciting and addicting activity ever.

Mitsui tugged the towel away, and I gasped when I saw that his face was a mere five inches from my own. I stared deep into those blue eyes of his that had probably seen everything there is to see—that's worth seeing, anyway. And I felt as though my secrets were being pulled out of me on a fishing line. (Ah, get out of my head, get out of my head, Sendoh!)

"I… I wanted to show off," I confessed finally, and cast a surrendering look at Mitsui. I made to leave, but he caught my wrist in a vice grip.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, "hold up there. Did I hear you right? Did you say you wanted to _show off_?"

I didn't understand why he found it so hard to believe that I did regular human things from time to time.

"Yes," I replied matter-of-factly, still not meeting his gaze. That didn't seem to do any good, because he walked around, and looked me in the eye again.

"Who were you trying to show off to?"

I didn't like the way he asked that. It sounded as though he knew something I meant to hide from the world forever, and now that I come to think of it, I may just know what. But I chose not to reply because I, the blabbermouth that I am (not), already revealed too much to him.

"Rukawa," he said softly. "Who were you trying to show off to?"

I looked up into his eyes again. Darn those beautiful blue eyes of his! They seem to jinx me into telling him everything!

"To… to you, Senpai" I said, and the words came pouring out of my mouth before I could scarcely comprehend what the hell I'd just said.

Mitsui's grip on my arm loosened slightly, and I felt warm blood rush to the spot where his hand was. He seemed dazed. There was a half-smile playing uncertainly at the corners of his mouth, and his blue eyes were widened in what appeared to be shock.

"To me?" he said, though I doubted that his brain even registered it, judging by the blank look on his face.

I chose not to say anything.

"To me, Rukawa?" he repeated, tightening his grip on my arm again.

I winced.

Mitsui was now staring straight into my eyes with what I could use in the future as inspiration for a piercing stare.

Again, I felt all semblance of willpower being drained away from me as I mechanically replied, "Yes," and much to my horror my blasted mouth didn't stop just there, but proceeded to say, "because I love you Senpai." And as if that weren't enough, I added, "I've loved you from the day you tried destroying our team."

Mitsui's eyes had widened to a degree that would spook the crap out of an ophthalmologist even on Halloween. He let go of my arm, and swayed dangerously on the spot, as if he was about to swoon at any moment.

"Senpai," I said, catching hold of his arm, since it appeared that it was not an inappropriate thing to do.

This seemed to bring him back to his senses, because he gave a little cough, and muttered something about lunch.

I saw how embarrassed and uncomfortable he looked, and I felt terrible. Utterly terrible. I have never wanted to kick myself more for having a big mouth.

"Senpai, I'm really sorry," I said, but that didn't seem to have the desired effect, because he didn't seem to register my apology. I suppose the fact that I said I loved him overshadowed this, just as basketball overshadows my other hobbies.

"Rukawa," he whispered, staring straight at me, but without the piercing stare, "could you repeat that, please?"

"I love you, Semapi," I said unhesitatingly. The damage had already been done. There was no use pretending otherwise.

"Rukawa," he whispered, and the sharp glint returned to his eyes, "Can I tell you something?"

Now, I can't pretend I wasn't expecting him to say, "I love you too, Rukawa," so you can imagine how big a shock it was to me when he said, "Let's just pretend this never happened, okay?"

I felt my heart shatter into a thousand pieces, just like my neighbor's window every other week when he complains about my practicing basketball late at night.

I saw a look of pity creep into Mitsui's face. And not the kind of pity a friend shows to another friend who's suffering, but the kind of pity a man shows to a wounded animal.

I found myself swallowing mechanically until there was barely any saliva left in my mouth. But Mitsui just wouldn't look away from me. Honestly, Mitsui-Senpai, can't you just turn your back on me and walk away? I poured my heart out to you, and you just wrung it like a towel, and—uh—didn't even give it back, I guess.

Mitsui walked a few steps closer, and I mechanically stepped back as many steps until I felt the wall behind me.

"Look, Rukawa," he said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair in a manner I would have almost drooled over under normal circumstances. Now it just hurt to watch.

"Look, Rukawa," he repeated, and I wondered just how much deeper was he going to drive the dagger into my heart.

"Look, Rukawa," he said again, and I swore to sock him in the fucking face if he said it again, "I don't know how to say this to you, but…"

"But what?" the optimistic side of me piped up.

"I… I think I'm in love with you, too," he said finally.

And I could have sworn I was about to gasp, because within the depths of those blue orbs lay neither his characteristic sarcasm nor flippancy, but a look of wistfulness.

"Then… then why did you just ask me to pretend that I never said anything?" I said.

I could have laughed out in relief, jumped off a cliff, and died a happy man. But not yet. Not without an answer first.

"What will the team think?" he said. "If they find out we're in love with each other?"

"I don't fucking care what they think." I grabbed Mitsui by the shoulders, and kissed him. We must have kissed for, I guess, the rest of the afternoon, because it sure felt like it.

And so when it rains and I'm stuck at home, I don't brood over how much fun others are probably having. I have my share of fun, too, when I dial Senpai's number, and have him over for the night.

end.

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A/N: I don't think Rukawa's OOC for calling Akagi "Gori" (he's OOC for a lot of other reasons, but not this), because there was a point in the series where he almost said it, and checked himself at the last moment. Also when Akagi blocked Sendoh's shot during the second game against Ryonan, Rukawa actually did say "Gori", albeit in chibi form.


End file.
